


In the eye of the storm

by Burtonized



Series: History Maker [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Katsuki Yuuri is a Tease, M/M, Victor Nikiforov is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 03:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18908263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burtonized/pseuds/Burtonized
Summary: "So your plan is to annoy the kid by going to his restaurant every single day, order a glass of water, and ask him when he's finally coming to rehearsal?" Chris raised a very sceptical-looking eyebrow at him."Yes?""You're pathetic, Viktor."Or: the AU in which Viktor, Chris, and Phichit are in a rock band without a lead singer. Phichit seems to know just the guy and Viktor takes it upon himself to get the guy on board. Shouldn't be that hard right?





	In the eye of the storm

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, and welcome to my very first fanfiction!
> 
> I've got to say, I am kinda scared to post this, but my lovely friend said I had to post it, so here we are.  
> I have wanted to write a Viktuuri fic for ages now, but never had a setting that felt right. That was until I learned how my favourite rockband (One OK Rock, for those who are interested) got their lead singer. Toru, the leader and guitarist literally bugged the heck out of Taka by going to the restaurant Taka worked at, until Taka said "Yes, I'll come to the rehearsal". And I texted my friend and was like "OMG, IMAGINE YOUR OTP". And well... Here we are!
> 
> Before you start reading, I would like to ask you to keep the following things in mind:  
> First of all, English is not my native language, and while I like to believe I have a good enough grasp of the language to write decently in it, I am nowhere near fluent. This means that there will be errors, typos, and whatsoever in this fic, especially since I have no one betaing this thing for me. I am, however, open to constructive criticism.  
> Secondly, while I try to keep the characters as close as possible to the way they are portrayed in the anime, I find they tend to get a bit OOC sometimes. Yuuri, for example, is a lot more confident than in the series. I suppose it's because of the AU I have chosen. If you don't like it, then this is not your fic.  
> Third, I have no clue how the music industry or creative therapy works, so let's just say I made good use of my imagination.  
> Hope you enjoy it, folks, thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination, grammatical errors and typos.

"Out, what do you mean he's _out_?"

" _Do I have to throw a dictionary at your head the next time I see you, Viktor? Alex is out, meaning we have no singer anymore._ "

"I know what it means, Chris. That doesn't mean I understand _why_ he's out."

" _He said something about getting a part in a new tv series. Don't sound so surprised. You and I both knew he prefered acting over making music._ "

"I know, I know. Does Phichit know yet?"

" _He does._ "

"And?"

" _He wasn't surprised._ "

~

Viktor wasn’t mad. Not at Chris, not at Phichit. It wasn't their fault, after all. He wasn’t even mad at Alex. Alex had made it no secret that he wanted to pursuit an acting career. Viktor had simply been telling himself that said acting career would never happen. In all honesty, he could only be mad at himself for being so dense. Yakov Feltsman, their manager, had told him often enough that Viktor liked to live in his own dreamworld, where everything was perfect. _It will bite you in the ass one day, kid_ , Yakov would say, when Viktor would come whining again about how harsh reality could be. Viktor would never say it aloud, his pride was too grand for that, but he silently had to admit Yakov was right. Life was no dreamworld, no matter how hard you tried. And oh, how Viktor had tried over the years to keep his own dreamworld a reality. Apparently to no avail.

The idea of being in a band had always intruiged Viktor. The idea of making music, touring the world, sold out venues - he had wanted it all. From a very young age, he had wanted the fame and the glory. Both his parents had been heavily involved in the music industry, with his mother a famous violin player and his father a songwriter. Going to concerts had been a big part of his life from very early on.  _I want that_ , he had thought after his first concert at the young age of seven,  _I want that and more_. Meeting Christophe at the age of twelve hadn’t changed that. Chris had a similar love for music and shared Viktors dream of becoming famous with a band. It was simpy coincidence that Chris could play the bass guitar quite nicely, while Viktor himself could strum some chords on both the acoustic and electric guitar.

And so they had practiced long hours together, just the two of them. They played in different bands during their high school years, gaining experience in both playing for small audiences and in writing songs. It wasn't until both Chris and Viktor had graduated from college, that Phichit joined them. Chris had met the Thai boy on a night out and Phichit turned out to be a real good drummer. Alex had joined them not long after that, providing their band the vocals the three of them lacked. Sure, they all could sing good enough to be background singers, but the three of them didn’t have any sort of golden voice. And even though Alex’ voice wasn’t perfect for the songs they (or more specifically, Viktor) envisioned, it had been good enough for them. It had been good enough for Viktor, at least. They had been growing slowly, releasing some actual songs, and performing at some small venues and the occasional cafes. They had been talking about releasing their first album, about touring outside the city of New York. They had been talking, hoping, and dreaming about finally making the break they all wanted. Viktor had honestly believed they would finally be the great artists they longed to be.

Too bad good things have to come to an end.

In hindsight, Viktor should have seen it coming from miles away, but hindsight is always a bitch. Alex had been spacing out more often the past few weeks, even missing rehearsal a couple of times. And now he was gone with the wind, without a single text or call. Not exactly how Viktor had envisioned parting with their lead singer. Though in all honesty, Viktor regretted it more that they had no more lead singer, than that he regretted seeing Alex go. It wasn't that he couldn't get along with Alex, but his bond with the other two band members was much closer. Perhaps that feeling had been mutual. Viktor could understand it made leaving easier. Alex had been convenient for them, but that was precisely it, wasn't it? Alex had been convenient, because he had a good voice. And being in a band because you were convenient probably wasn't a good enough reason to stay in said band.

Viktor locked the studio behind him. He had wanted to practice in silence, to turn the mess in his head into somewhat tangible thoughts, but after two hours of doing nothing he had given up. They had no lead singer anymore. They were just three guys now, that could play instruments, but there was no one that could sing the lyrics. _So much for being a band_.

He walked down the two flights of stairs, passing Yakov's office on the first floor. The door was slightly ajar and Viktor hesitated for a short moment, before knocking on the door. Part of him dreaded having a conversation with Yakov. Their manager could be a grumpy man, with a great lack of empathy. But Viktor cared for the man, more deeply than he sometimes liked to admit, and he valued Yakov's opinion. And sometimes, when his thoughts become so clouded he couldn't think, the harshness that belonged to Yakov was refreshing. 

"Come in," the stoic voice that belonged to his manager said.

"Hey, Yakov," Viktor greeted his manager, closing the door behind him. "Have you heard from Alex?"

Yakov remained silent for a few second, his eyes still focussed on the papers on his desk. "I have." Yakov was growing older by the day, his greying hair and deepening lines in his face a harsh reminder.

"Oh."

"He told me to tell you guys it wasn't your fault. Not entirely, at least."

"I know," Viktor sighed. He knew it wasn't their fault. No one was at fault and yet, everyone was at fault. They shouldn't have taken Alex for granted the way they did, accepting he was just their vocalist and nothing more. Perhaps they should have tried harder to include him, to ask him more often to join them. But Alex could have said yes more often on the few times they had asked him to tag along. Alex could have told them he didn't like being the fifth wheel. But was that really Alex' fault?

"He didn't belong in your band, Vitya, you know that as much as I do. It's sad it took you guys this long to figure that out."

Viktor looked at his hands, which were folded neatly in his lap. He hated conversations like this with Yakov. He knew Yakov through his dad, even saw him as some sort of uncle sometimes. The man was stoic and harsh, but he was honest and real, and Viktor appreciated that. If there was something Yakov didn't like, he would tell you. If there was something he hated, he would tell you. If there was something you did good, he would praise you. Yakov was like an anchor, something that grounded Viktor when he needed it most. The downside of knowing Yakov for most of his life, however, was that the older man was able to see through him.

"I know," Viktor sighed again. "We should've seen it sooner." _I should have seen it sooner_.

"Him leaving, however, leaves us with some problems," Yakov continued, cutting off the emotional part of their conversation. Yakov had always been that way. His ex-wife, Lilia, had been better with handling emotions of the children with dreams to make it big. But she wasn't here anymore, running her own dancing business a few blocks away. "The album. I can pull a few strings to postpone it, _again_ , but I can't keep pulling strings forever. There comes a point in time where it's going to be out of my hands and you can say goodbye to the album." Yakov leaned back in his heavy chair, sighing deeply. "And that point is going to be sooner than later, Vitya. I have other artists running around here that I have to manage and that are close to their big break."

Viktor knew this all, of course. He knew he had been lucky enough to have had this many chances. It was only natural his luck eventually dried up. "I know, Yakov. Believe me, I know."

"Good. Now, go home, rest. We'll talk about this later when you're in a better state of mind." Yakov waved his hand, signing that it was Viktors cue to leave.

With a quick goodbye, Viktor left the room, his head still spinning, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He was so caught up in his own world that he didn't see the angry teenager in time, bumping into his small frame in the process.

"Watch it, you moron!" Yuri snarled.

Ah, the blonde punk. Yuri Plisetsky liked to think he was a force to be reckoned with, but Viktor wasn't impressed. What was the saying again? Ah, yes, _barking dogs don't bite_. Yuri was still a teenager, but already making quite the name for himself. Together with his friend Otabek Altin, they made the most interesting mix songs of various metal and pop songs. Yuri didn't have your typical singing voice, but he was good at what he did, especially on stage. They had been playing for multiple high regarded clubs the past few months, gaining fans and new opportunities in the process.

"Oh hi, Yuri," Viktor sing-songed, just to piss the teenager off, "so _nice_ to see you too!"

"Piss off, old man. Why are you still here anyway?" Yuri eyed him with curiosity, his blonde bangs falling into his eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be here?"

"You have no singer? No singer means no band, no band means no practice?"

Viktor felt his face falter for a second. If Yuri already knew, most of the people around here would know. It was both amazing and frightening how fast news traveled these days. "Well," Viktor said, putting a fake smile back on his face, "technically we still have a band, we just don't have a singer. And that we don't have a singer, doesn't mean we should slack off and sit on our asses all day, no? Oh, will you look at that, time's flying, see you later, punk!" And with that, Viktor turned around on his heels and left.

He wasn't scared, he told himself. He wasn't scared or ashamed of his actions. And he wasn't running away. No, he was definately not running away from a sixteen year old kid with anger issues, because said kid's words had hurt him deeper than he'd liked to admit.

_Good job, shithead. Keep lying to yourself. You might end up believing it._

~

"Why are we here again?" Viktor asked, looking around the place with a raised brow. Phichit, Chris, and himself were seated on a bar stool in a small, local cafe. Viktor had heard of the place being mostly used nowadays by college kids, but he himself had never been here during his college days. The place was quite nice, though a bit outdated. The colors were mostly a muted brown, and the furniture was a mismatch of various items. He supposed the decor could be appealing to some. Against the wall furthest away from the entrance, a podium had been built. It reminded Viktor of those podiums they quickly set up during high school performances, with cracked wooden planks, too bright lighting, and a too cheap sound system.

"A friend of mine is playing tonight," Phichit answered, sipping from the drink in his hand. "He asked me to come watch tonight. Thought it might be a good distraction for all of us."

"Well, we might end up crying about it, because these guys can actually perform while we can't, but I appreciate the thought, kid." Chris clapped their younger band member on the back.

"Always the optimist, no? Viktor, tell our friend he has to lighten up."

Viktor shrugged. "If Chris wants to be bitter about this, let him. Heck, even I'm bitter about is." And he wasn't lying. He had planned on sulking at home, feeling sorry for himself. But no, Phichit had dragged them out here, against their will. Though to be fair, Chris hadn't been as bitter about it as Viktor.

"Yes," Phichit answered, rolling his eyes, "let's all be bitter about this, instead of enjoying this perfectly fine evening." He took another sip of his drink (which was a disturbing shade of purple and Viktor briefly wondered what their Thai friend had ordered). "I know it sucks guys, but we'll figure it out, right? Just not tonight."

Chris snorted. "Fine, you're right. No more brooding tonight. That means you too, Viktor."

"I'm _not_ brooding," Viktor breathed, shooting his best friend a glare.

Chris made a vague motion with his hand, a small smile around his lips. "Sure, believe what you will, _mon chérie_."

It was at that moment that one of the bartenders pressed his ordered drink in his hand. It gave Viktor he perfect excuse to focus his attention on his drink and ignore his friends for a while. They had started bickering about Phichits drink, with Chris voicing his doubts whether the drink was safe to drink. It was the usual banter and it comforted Viktor that at least this was still the same. It didn't matter that Alex had left them. The three of them would be alright, one way or another.

"So," he heard Chris say, who was nursing his own drink. "Is this friend of yours any good?"

Phichit nodded. "I think so, at least. I hear him practice sometime when I come home - he's my roommate, you see - but the moment he hears me, he shuts up and hides in his room for an hour or so. That's why I really wanted to see him perform tonight."

"So he's a shy guy?"

Phichit shook his head. "Not really. It depends a bit. I wouldn't say Yuuri is shy, just not that extraverted. I mean, when we're together, he can get pretty crazy. But when it comes to his band and him singing, you could say he is shy-ish."

Chris sipped his drink thoughtfully. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough." He nodded towards the podium, where multiple instruments had been set up by know and some people were tuning their instruments.

"Oh, there he is!" Phichit exclaimed after a few silent moments, pointing towards a dark haired guy. The guy, who supposedly was called Yuuri, was standing a bit behind the rest, a microphone in his hand. He looked timid, just as Phichit had told them, but Viktor could something in his eyes. His eyes were fierce and dark, holding some kind of determination. His dark hair was slicked back and he was dressed in dark clothes. A black v-shaped shirt, dark pants, black shoes. The entire look was simple, yet it didn't look simple at all. Viktor didn't understand how someone could pull off a look like that so effortlessly.

One of the bartenders got up the stage and anounced the band. Viktor applauded along with the rest, mentally preparing himself. You never knew these days with college bands. They could be either really good or really bad.

The guitarist started after a couple of seconds, the melody familiar, yet so different.

"Oh my god," Phichit whispered beside Viktor. "They're playing our song."

"But what on _earth_ have they done to it?" Chris chimed in, horror slipping through his voice.

The melody belonged indeed to their first ever released song. The song itself had been more on the rock-side of the musical spectrum, with hints of metal and pop laced through them. Alex had never been able to give the song the power it needed. _His voice would have fitted this version perfectly_ , Viktor thought. It was ironic, almost, how much they had changed the song, making it more upbeat, more pop. It sounded wrong in Viktors ears.

But then Yuuri began to sing and all was forgotten.

Of all the things Viktor had expected to happen, _this_ wasn't one of those things. Yuuri's voice was everything. It was smooth and dark, but light and emotional. It was strong and deep, but clear and oh so beautiful. This voice... This voice was what they needed. This was the voice that would do their songs justice. Couldn't they hear how wrong the music played was? How it didn't fit Yuuri's beautiful voice at all? Couldn't any of them understand that Yuuri was totally out of place in this composition?

"I did not expect this," Chris muttered.

"Me neither," Phichit agreed.

Viktor looked at his friends for a moment, their faces full of awe, and then back to Yuuri. He realised it wasn't just the voice; it was the entire package. The way Yuuri moved on stage, his hips sensual, his energy bursting. For all he knew, he was at some amazing rock concert, screaming and singing his brains out. The crowd seemed to love Yuuri as well, yelling his name and whistling. And oh, how Yuuri bewitched them all, with the way his voice curled around the words, with the way he laced emotions through the sentences. Yuuri may have seemed like a timid guy, but he _knew_ how to play on stage.

"Guys," Viktor breathed, turning around once more to face his fellow band members, "we need to get him in the band."

~

Getting Yuuri on the band, however, proved to be more difficult than planned. The three of them had stayed seated, long after Yuuri and his band had stopped playing. Phichit had told them that Yuuri would come out after a while, to meet up with Phichit. And truth to be told, after about fortyfive minutes later, Yuuri emerged from the door leading to the back area, his bandmembers following close behind. Viktor couldn't help but think Yuuri looked so much different now. His hair wasn't as neatly slicked back anymore, with pieces of hair falling back into his face. He also wore blue glasses, framing his face. He had changed his set of clothes for some comfier clothes, it seemed, wearing a faded jeans and oversized jumper.

Upon seeing Phichit, Yuuri's face lightened up and he waved enthusiastically. "Phichit!"

"Yuuri-kun!" Phichit stood up and hugged his roommate tightly, a wide grin on his face. "Why did you hide this from me, you idiot?"

Yuuri shrugged, laughing a bit nervously. "Well, I didn't know if you'd laugh at me or not."

"I'm in a band myself, you stupid, of course I wouldn't laugh at you. Speaking of my band, I want you to meet the others I've been talking about!" Phichit beamed brightly, redirecting Yuuri's attention now to Viktor and Chris. "This handsome fellow is Chris. Don't be shocked when he gets a bit touchy, that's just how he is. Oh, and never, and I mean _never_ start a drinking competition with this dude. You're fucked from the beginning."

Yuuri laughed, high and melodious and Viktor felt something inside of his heart twitch. "I'll keep that in mind. Hi, Chris," he said, offering his hand, "I'm Yuuri."

"Pleasure to meet you, darling," Chris said, pulling the other boy in a hug. Yuuri yelped in surprise.

"I see what you mean," Yuuri said to Phichit, laughing again when Chris finally let him go.

Phichit nodded. "Yep, that's our Charming Chris. He's our bass player, and a pretty good one at that." Phichit nudged his friend towards Viktor. "And this is our leader and guitarist player, Viktor."

Viktor offered his hand, shaking Yuuri's. "Hi, nice to meet you, Yuuri. You were killing it there on stage."

Yuuri's cheeks darkened a little, seemingly thrown off by the unexpected compliment. _How cute_.

"Oh, eh," he mumbled, "thank you. It had been a while since I performed for people. I forgot how much fun it is. But I suppose you guys know how much fun it is, seeing you're in a band an all and already under a manager and all that."

The three bandmates looked at each other for a moment and Viktor felt the pang of sadness in his body again. They hadn't performed in ages, too busy with writing songs and perfecting them.

It was Phichit that broke the awkward silence. "We haven't performed in a while, though."

"Oh yes! You mentioned something about finally making an album, right?" Yuuri answered excitedly, oblivious to the dread in the faces of the other three men.

"Yeah, well, that's not happening anymore," Chris added, shrugging his shoulders. "Our lead singer quit on us this morning."

Yuuri's face fell and in a matter of seconds, many emotions flashed accross his face. "Oh. _Oh_." He shook his head. "I am _so_ sorry. And here I was assuming you could would perform regularly, with how much you guys have been practicing."

"You couldn't know," Phichit tried to console his roommate, to no avail.

"No, but I shouldn't have assumed. Is there anything I could do to help?"

"You could become our lead singer," Chris stated, blunt as ever.

~

Yuuri couldn't. At least, that is what they had told him. Yuuri apparantly didn't believe he was good enough for a band like theirs, and had kindly declined their offer. Besides, he had said, he couldn't leave his own band to their own devices just like that. He had made a commitment to them, and would see that commitment through. Thirdly, and at that point Viktor had felt as if Yuuri was giving the reasons more to himself then to any of them, he didn't have the time to practice as much as they did. He was still in college and had to help his parents out at their restaurant on most days of the week. In short, he would simply be an inconvenience to the band. Yuuri had left not long after that, together with Phichit. Apparently they had a paper to write that was due tomorrow, and inspiration usually struck them at night. Viktor was still on the fence wether they had been lying about that or not, but one look from Chris had told him to let it go.

With a big sigh, Viktor sat down on Chris' couch, a glass filled with some unnamed alcohol in his hand. He knew he should probably ask what Chris had given them to drink, but at this point of the night he couldn't care less. His head hurted, his emotions were all over the place, and his thoughts were incomprehensable. He felt drained from having experienced all the lows and highs today, in a matter of hours.

Chris' flat was nice. It was more on the industrial side, with grand brick walls, clean-cut closets and shelfs and grand, heavy furniture. Viktor liked it here, and tended to hang out here often. Beside that, Chris' neighbours didn't seem to care whether they played music deep into the night, which had allowed them to practice for many hours when they couldn't use their studio at Feltmans building yet.

"What are we going to do, Chris?" Viktor whined. He was moving his glass around in his hand, debating whether it was worth it to find out what kind of unidentified liquid it contained. He still needed to meet up with Yakov tomorrow, but on the other hand, he needed his sleep as well. Lack of sleep meant a shit conversation with Yakov. Which in all honesty meant he was fucked either way. He sighed again and decided to just go with it. The alcohol was bitter on his tongue, but turned out to be plain old vodka.

"I don't know," Chris answered honestly, sitting down as well with a glass of vodka in his hand. Viktor at least assumed it was vodka as well. "I know we should probably go and meet Yakov tomorrow and talk things through. I have no idea where we can get a new lead singer in such a short notice."

Viktor took another sip, contemplating his next words. "We could ask Yuuri again."

"He said no, Viktor."

"I know, but hear me out." Viktor sat his glass down on the sidetable beside him. "The reasons he gave us are bullshit, no? Bands, especially college bands like that, go through members like they're hot sandwiches. Him leaving his band wouldn't be a problem for his band at all. They can just do some auditions and have a new singer in no time."

Chris raised his eyebrow at him. "But then you just pass our problem on to someone else. Not exactly fair, you think?"

"Perhaps not," Viktor admitted, "but it happens, right? And if Yuuri wants to have a music career, he can't stay in this band forever. They would get nowhere. I mean, they weren't bad, but they weren't that great either. Those kids behind him were just doing it for fun, not because they wanted a music career."

Chris snorted. "Since when did you become good at analyzing people you don't know?" He took a sip from his drink, taking his time with it. "But fine, let's assume Yuuri wouldn't eventually mind leaving his band, can free up enough time on his schedule, and realizes he's good enough. You still forget one important thing."

"And that is?"

"He said _no_. How are you going to change his mind?"

"Well," Viktor started thoughtfully, "I could always go by the restaurant he works at, and ask him everyday until he changes his mind. You know, persuasion or something like that."

"So your plan is to annoy the kid by going to his restaurant every single day, order a glass of water, and ask him when he's finally coming to rehearsal?" Chris raised a very sceptical-looking eyebrow at him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You're pathetic, Viktor."

The sad thruth was that Viktor knew he was pathetic. He knew this entire fucked up idea was pathetic. Bugging an innocent kid until he would say yes was probably the most pathetic thing he had ever done in his life, but Viktor was at his wits end. Yuuri was his last option, his last chance. Yakov had made that much clear in earlier conversations. _In this field of work, you don't have a million chances, Vitya_ , he had said, _you usually have one chance only and if you don't take that chance, you can probably kiss your musical career goodbye_.

Viktor didn't want to have to say goodbye. And that may be selfish, but he'd rather be selfish at this point then give up on his lifelong dream.

"I know," he admitted after a few silent moments. "I know I'm pathetic, Chris." He groaned in frustration, suddenly _so tired_ from all the mess that was currently his life, and dragged his hand across his face in frustration. "But he's our last chance. He's the only one that can save this band in time. And as the leader of the band, I'll do whatever it takes to get him on board. Even if it means camping outside his house for a month."

"You're serious about this," Chris stated, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You're actually serious about this."

Viktor eyed his friend. Did Chris actually think that Viktor wasn't serious about this? "Of course I'm serious about this, Chris. This is our last chance, even Yakov said so."

"When did you speak to Yakov?" Chris frowned in confusion. "I haven't seen Yakov since last week."

"This morning," Viktor answered, sitting back again in the chair. He took another sip of his drink, mentally going through the conversation he had with their manager earlier that day. Or rather, yesterday, if the clock on the wall was portraying the right time. "There aren't many more strings he can or will pull for us."

Chris cursed at that, the seriousness of the situation seemingly finally dawning. Not that he hadn't known before, but it was obvious from the worried look on his face that he realized what it truly meant now that Alex had left them. And Viktor felt the knot in his stomach tighten. All those years, when the two of them had talked about starting a band, Chris had pointed to Viktor as the leader. _I can't be a leader, Viktor. I'm too much of a chaotic flirt for that. But I trust you, and you can bring us to new fame._ Viktor didn't want to disappoint his best friend. He _couldn't_ disappoint his best friend.

"Okay," Chris breathed, "okay. I am not saying I agree with your method of persuasion - because I don't - but I trust you. I have always trusted you and put my faith in you as our leader. That's not going to change now."

"Thank you, Chris, you have no idea how much that means to me."

Chris grimaced. "Don't thank me yet. Thank me when Yuuri changed his mind."

~

And so operation _get-Yuuri-on-board_ began. In the mornings, Viktor would swing by Feltmans building, either to talk to Yakov about future possibilities, or to practice a bit in solitute. In a sense, his morning routine hadn't chance. The only big difference was that 'talking about future possibilities' contained a wider range of said possibilities than before. Viktor wasn't stupid. He knew a wake up call when it slapped him in the face, and right now he had been slapped in the face  _hard_. Music was his life, always had been, and with only a college degree in music under his belt, there was not much he could do. When he allowed himself to reflect on himself, he would sometimes wonder. What would happen if you took music away from him? What would he be like as a human being? What would he do? Who would he  _be_? The questions scared Viktor. They scared him enough that he pushed it to the back of his mind, hidden behind façades of smiles and happiness. He knew the answer to those questions, of course, but admitting them would mean he had to face them. He would have to face the ugly reality that without music, he would have nothing. He would be nothing. Music was intwined with his entire being in such an intricate and complex way, that taking it away would leave nothing but a big mess. It was why Viktor took this wake up call to heart and picked up a small job at the Feltmans agency. In the early afternoons, he gave guitar lessons to children. It was gratifying in a way, to see the children he taught progress, some more naturally than others. But it was nice to share his skills and put a smile on the kids faces. It wasn't a dream job, but it provided him with some money and it kept him busy. Late in the night, Viktor would meet up as usual with Chris ath their little studio. Phichit would join them on most nights, canceling only when he had to write important reports or study for exams. They played until their bodies ached and their fingers bled. They never sang, just played the melodies they had written, finetuning them or changing them where needed.

It were the late afternoons however, that were different than before. Instead of going home like he normaly did, Viktor went to Yutopia, the small Japanese restaurant Yuuri worked at. Phichit had been so kind to give Viktor the adress and text him a picture of Yuuri's schedule. And so Viktor found himself at the restaurant almost everyday. A routine was quickly established. He would order a glass of water, ask Yuuri when he'd come to rehearsal, drink the glass of water empty, and leave again. If Yuuri had the time, Viktor would talk a bit with the younger man, conversing about mundane things. He learned that the restaurant belonged to Yuuri's parents, and Yuuri didn't mind being the helpful son. His parents had migrated a couple of years ago from Japan, when their onsen their had ran out of customers to serve. Both Yuuri and his older sister had moved with them, Yuuri to start college in America, and his sister to help their parents with a new business. Yuuri studied creative psychology, Viktor learned, mostly because he liked helping people and it allowed him to combine his love for music with aiding people in their rehabilitation.

I was one of those days today as well. Viktors lessons had ended earlier than expected, due to one of the children being ill, and arrived earlier at the small restaurant than normal. Business was a lot slower at this hour, as it was too late for lunch, but too early for dinner yet, and Yuuri was sitting at one of the corner tables, books and notes in front of him. He was dressed in comfy clothes: a too big black jumper (Viktor figured Yuuri liked too big jumpers) and dark jeans. His hair was in his usual hairstyle again, falling almost in his eyes, and he wore his blue glasses.

"Hey," Viktor said as he approached Yuuri, taking the chair opposite of the Japanese boy and sitting down on it.

Yuuri looked up for a moment and smiled at Viktor. "Hey, you're here early," he pointed out.

"One of the kids was ill," Viktor clarified, shrugging his shoulders. "Thought I'd come by earlier then. Who knows, maybe you're easier to persuade in the middle of the day."

"Who knows," Yuuri grinned and Viktor felt his heart flutter. When Yuuri grinned at him like that, he saw the bits and pieces of the Yuuri he had seen on stage, and that side of Yuuri had been so... _captivating_.

"So, will you join our band then?" Viktor tried, for the umpteenth time. He knew the answer already before Yuuri gave it.

"Nop." Yuuri accentuated the 'p', making a popping sound.

"So you're not easier to persuade in the middle of the day then," Viktor stated, trying to sound hurt. He failed miserably at it, as usual. Acting had never been his forté.

Yuuri eyed Viktor for a moment, before putting his pen down. "Not when I have a paper due in the morning." He nodded at the paper in front of him. "It's a real pain in the ass to write, but I really need to pass this course."

"What's it about?"

"I'm discussing why music would be a better option as therapy than acting, but I have to be careful not to lace my own emotions through it." Yuuri chuckled. "I'm kinda biased, as you can probably imagine."

Viktor couldn't help but chuckle as well. "I can imagine so. May I?" he asked, motioning towards the paper. When Yuuri nodded, he turned the paper around, reading through the paragraphs. From an outside point of view, it was rather interesting and Viktor could understand why Yuuri would pick such a topic. "I don't think you're too biased though," he said, after reading the paper. "Sure, I can read that you like music a lot, but you're not totally disregarding the idea of using acting as a form of therapy." He slid the paper back towards Yuuri. "But then again, I might be biased too."

Yuuri cocked his head to the side. "How so?"

"You're not afraid I might say good things to get on your good side?"

"Oh, Viktor." Yuuri laughed, loud and free, ignoring the handful of customers that looked up from their food with curiousity. Viktor couldn't help but think that Yuuri looked so beautiful like this, so carefree. It was the same Yuuri he had seen on stage, daring people to take his freedom away with a look in his eyes. "You're too afraid you'll screw up your chances with me if you do that."

"Busted," he admitted, putting his hands up in defeat, an idiotic grin on his face. He couldn't help it. Yuuri's laugh was infectious, and it tugged in all sort of ways at Viktors heart. "But that would mean I do have a chance, no?"

"You know," Yuuri said after a few seconds of silence, a serious look on his face now, all traces of the carefree Yuuri gone, "I still don't get why you want me to join your band so bad. I just can't wrap my head around it. There are many great singers out there, you could find someone else in no time."

"Probably," Viktor admitted, running a hand through his hair and sitting back in the chair, "but none of them would compare to you. When I started this band a few years ago, I had envisioned the songs I wrote in my head. Alex was a good singer, but he was never able to fulfil that vision. It was good, sure, but it just wasn't... _it_." He let his eyes move away a little, looking outside into the distance. Thinking about Alex was still painful in a way. He still wasn't angry, but he felt betrayed. Alex had left them, without a single word, a single excuse. Alex may not have had the same ambition when it came to their little band, but he knew well enough what the others wanted for the band. Leaving them at a time like this felt like a dick move to Viktor.

"What was he like? Alex, I mean." Yuuri looked curiously at Viktor, his head still cocked to the said. His hair (which looked incredibly soft, by the way) fell into his eyes, but he didn't seem bothered by it. Viktor had to resist the urge to run his fingers through Yuuri's hair.

"Alex was... eccentric," Viktor settled on eventually. "He was in one of Chris' classes and heard we needed a singer. One day he barged in behind Chris, stating he would sing for us. I don't think he knew then that we were mainly interested in rock music." He couldn't help but smile at the memory. The first time Alex had heard one of their song, the look on his face had been priceless. "I can't blame him for not staying in our band. He has a good voice, he truly does, but not for our band. Not for what we want." Viktor looked away again, watching the cars and people walk by in a daze. It was becoming busier on the streets, the start of the commute showing. "Alex wanted to act more than sing. I can't help but think that if our band would be interested in a different genre, he might have stayed."

"But wouldn't that be lying to yourself?" Yuuri asked. "If you'd change your genre, you would just lie about who you are and what you want as a band. You guys would be miserable performing. As much as you sometimes want to hold on to something or someone, sometimes it's just not meant to be. Alex was never meant to stay in your band."

Viktor looked back at Yuuri, a range of emotiones raging through him. Here he was, listening to advice from a younger person, not because he wanted to indulge the man sitting in front of him, but because Yuuri actually made a lot of sense. "Maybe you're right," he admitted. "Changing everything to keep Alex in the band would have broken us. We aren't meant to play those sappy popsongs. It's not who we are."

"See?" Yuuri smiled at him, that beautiful little smile, that made Viktor go weak inside. "Never stray away from what you truly want. Don't hide yourself because you want to please people. That's not how this world works."

"And you, Katsuki Yuuri, are you hiding yourself to please people?" Viktor couldn't help but ask. Yuuri had looked miserable on stage that night, so out of place. Maybe he had been misreading the situation that day, too lost in his admiration for the younger singer, but part of him didn't believe that. Yuuri wasn't made for the pop industry, with a voice as powerful as his.

Yuuri smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Don't we all, sometimes?" He moved to grab his stuff from the table, neatly aranging the books and papers on a stack. "I have to get to work in the kitchen now though. I"ll see you tomorrow?"

It was the first time Yuuri actually asked for confirmation whether Viktor would come by or not, despite Viktor being here every day for the past two weeks. Viktor stood up as well, putting on his coat in the process. "Of course," he said, smiling. He couldn't help but feel though, as if they had reached some kind of unspoken boundary and crossed it, without either of them being ready for it. "Good luck with writing the rest of your paper, I know you'll ace it."

Yuuri chuckled, the stack of books now in his hands. "How do you know?"

"Because you're magnificent in every single way," Viktor answered, shrugging his shoulders. "And you give yourself far too little credit, so I might give you a bit more to even the disbalance."

Yuuri stayed silent for a while, simply looking at Viktor with an unreadable look on his face. "Thanks," he eventually said, the small smile back on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow, Viktor." And with that, he was gone, gone behind the double doors leading into the kitchen.

As Viktor left the tiny restaurant, he didn't know what to feel. The more he came to the restaurant, and the more he got to know Yuuri, the more he realised he wanted the younger man to stay in his life. Yuuri was unreadable in many ways, hidden behind layers and layers of puzzles, but sometimes Viktor could see through the cracks. And whenever that happened, he wanted more. He still desperately wanted Yuuri on the band, but he couldn't help but feel that there were other reasons for that desperation now, other than Yuuri's amazing voice.

His thoughts stayed wild and unfocussed the entire walk back to his apartment.

~

True to his words, Viktor found himself back at the restaurant the next day. With it being a Sunday, he had no classes to teach, allowing him to again leave the Feltman's building earlier than normal. It was busier than yesterday, however, with people also sitting outside to enjoy a cold drink. The weather had been steadily gether nicer with each day, and today it had been warm enough to leave the house without a coat. One of the downsides, however, was that the studio would become warmer as well. He remembered last summer, when the heat had sometimes become so unbearable that they ended up practicing during the early hours of the morning.

Viktor decided to enjoy the warmth today, taking place at one of the tables outside. Within seconds, an overly exited waiter came to his table. The kid, Viktor at least asumed he was still a kid, if he had to go by the chubiness still visible in his face, smiled the greatest smile Viktor had ever seen.

"Welcome to Yuutopia," the kid said excitedly, placing a menu down on Viktors table. "How may we help you today, sir?"

Viktor looked at the kid with amusement. He looked Japanese, though the vibrant blonde and red hair was throwing off the look. "Just a glass of water will do," Viktor answered, not even looking at the menu that had been placed before him.

"Yes sir, certainly sir, coming right up sir!"

Within seconds, the kid was gone again, leaving behind a very amused Viktor. Kids these days...

While he waited for his glass of water to arrive, Viktor took his bag from under his chair, taking out his laptop and notebook. He had started writing some new songs and revamping some of their older songs (in the hopes Yuuri would eventually join them). The pop input had to go, in his opinion, so that they could go back to their roots. They _were_ a rockband after all.

The kid placed the glass of water on the table after five minutes. "Sorry it took so long, sir," he apologized, though to Viktors humble opinion, five minutes weren't that long. "We're a bit understaffed today. With the weather being this nice, more people than expected showed up."

"No problem, kid," Viktor waved the apology away. "I'm a regular here, so I don't mind. Could you tell Yuuri however that I'm here?"

"But sir," the kid shook his head sadly, "Yuuri isn't in today. He took the afternoon off. He had important business to attend to. Now if you'll excuse me, sir, I have to get back to work."

A million thoughts swirled through his head in an instant. Hadn't Yuuri specifically asked yesterday whether Viktor would be here today? Was Yuuri that cruel to make sure Viktor was here, while Yuuri himself wouldn't be here? Or was this some kind of revenge, because Viktor had been bugging him? Viktor honestly didn't know. With a loud groan, which earned him some raised eyebrows from the tables next to him, he sat back in the chair, smacking his laptop close again. Well, that was it, then. If this wasn't a _you're dismissed_ slapping him in the face, he didn't know what was.

" _Someone_ is looking sour today."

Viktor looked up in surprise, rudely snapped out from his angry thoughts. Right in front of him stood Yuuri, dressed in his usual casual style, though he had swapped the sweater for a shirt today. _Yuuri was here_. Hold on, _why_ was Yuuri here?

"Oh, you're face is priceless," Yuuri laughed, taking the liberty to sit down in the chair opposite Viktor. "I told you we would see eachother today, Viktor. If that would make you so annoyed, why are you here?"

Viktor huffed. "I can ask _you_ the same. That red-haired kid said you weren't in today, so I assumed you stood me up."

"Minami told you, eh?" Yuuri mused, refering to the childish waiter that was currently running his ass off to serve customers. "I would never let you hanging like that, Viktor," he continued, his eyes still on the young waiter. Minami looked to be quite clumsy, tripping over his feet sometimes, and never carrying more than two dishes at the same time, or more than three drinks on his tray. It was a rather ineffective way of bringing people the stuff they ordered, but customers didn't seem to mind, instead adoring the clumsy kid and telling him it was all fine. Viktor couldn't help but notice the fond look Yuuri had when he looked at Minami. "He's an old family friend," Yuuri clarified. "The kid can drive you crazy with his energy, but he has a heart of gold."

Viktor hummed. "He's friendly enough, at least. People seem to like him."

"They do," Yuuri nodded in agreement. "Some people even come here specifically on Sundays to see Minami." He tore his gaze away from the young boy, averting his gaze back to Viktor. Something in his eyes was intense, his eyes dark. "But I doubt you're here to see Minami."

"What if I am?" Viktor teased, quirking an eyebrow at Yuuri, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Then I won't tell you the good news."

Viktors smile faded in an instant. _Good news_. "Oh?" he said instead, trying not to sound desperate. _Please, please Yuuri, tell me you're joining us_.

Yuuri sighed, sitting back in the chair, his eyes following Minami again. "I went to meet with my band this morning, as usual. But instead of practicing with them, I went to tell them I'm quitting the band. They weren't exactly happy about me leaving, but you know how it goes with college bands." Yuuri looked back at Viktor again, his face serious. "So you're probably happy to hear that I'll come to one of your practices with the band. _But_ ," he continued, holding up his hand to stop Viktor from interrupting, "for the love of god, Viktor, stop stalking my ass at work."

"I will," Viktor said, his voice too excited, "once you actually join the band."

"I said I would come to rehearsal, I never said I would join."

"Details, Yuuri, details," Viktor waved the comment away. "I am meeting the band in about an hour. You coming with me?"

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but Viktor could see the smile Yuuri tried to hide. He could see how it tugged at the corners of his lips. "Yes, Viktor," he said after an agonizing silence, "I will come to practice with you."

~

Due to the weather being so nice, Yuuri and Viktor decided to walk towards the studio. They walked in silence, side by side, enjoying the warmth and friendly environment around them. People were laughing around them, talking about summer plans. Viktor silently wondered if his summer plans would involve recording the album or not. He _almost_ felt like a little kid again, his emotions ecstatic, and he wanted to scream and run and shout to the world how happy he was at this moment. On the outside, however, he tried to remain cool and collected.

Once they reached their destination, Viktor led the way through the building, climbing up the stairs to the third floor. Both Chris and Phichit were already present inside the studio, Chris tuning his guitar and Phichit drumming away some random melodies.

"Hey guys," Viktor anounced, and he couldn't help the big smile spreading on his face. "Look who I have with me today?"

" _Yeh_!" Phichit immediately stopped drumming, hopped from the stool and threw his entire body into an unexpecting Yuuri, sending both of them down to the floor. "Yuuri," Phichit exclaimed excitedly, "you came! You _actually_ came!"

Yuuri laughed, pushing Phichit off of him. " _Nasake_ , of course I'm here you idiot. You have to thank your leader for that though, I got seriously fed up with his stalking." Yuuri threw Viktor a wide grin, getting onto his feet again.

"I honestly didn't think that his plan would work," Chris chimed in, setting his guitar down and walking towards the other three. He clapped Yuuri on the back. "Welcome, amigo, nice of you to _finally_ join us."

Yuuri smiled, albeit a bit shy, at Chris. "Thanks," he answered, running a hand through his hair. "Now, let's start playing, yes? Before I change my mind."

And so they played and played and played. It started out slow, with the three of them playing their tunes and melodies to Yuuri, who bopped his head along with the music, and reading the lyrics Viktor had provided him with. After a while, Yuuri started to experiment with the lyrics, and the band let him. It was obvious that Yuuri could sing, and knew what he was doing. And so they played and Yuuri sang, and it was the best practice session they had had in _months_.

It wasn't until it was late in the evening (or rather, very early in the morning) when they finally put their instruments down, their body sweaty and aching, but in the best possible way.

"Damn," Phichit said, "that was _amazing_."

And it was, it truly was. Viktor couldn't help but grin like an idiot.

"It was," Yuuri admitted, a water bottle in his hand. "You guys are pretty amazing."

"So," Viktor said, ignoring the victorious sounds both Chris and Phichit made, "does that mean you're in?"

Yuuri looked at Viktor, not answering immediately. And in that tiny moment of silence, Viktor could see it all. He could see the future brightly again, filled with sold out stadiums, albums, and touring overseas. And the four of them would be there together, making and building the band into something great, into something they could and would be proud of.

"Yeah," Yuuri said after the silence, his smile wider than Viktor had ever seen, "I'm in."

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it, folks. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
